


Over and Over

by Plushion



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, Not Happy, not even bittersweet, sorry man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 16:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plushion/pseuds/Plushion
Summary: Everything just goes on and on.Over and over.





	Over and Over

**Author's Note:**

> sssorrryyyy yall ive just been writing a lot of fluff (which i plan to upload) and I needed to write something sad to clear my palate im sorry man  
> I highly recommend listening to Picture Frames by Rei Brown if u want to be extra sad

The box full of pictures haunts Baz every time he passes it. There’s too many memories and he wants to forget them all, because maybe it will be easier. But he’s tried everything. Drinking, sleeping all the time, not sleeping at all, staying in the house for weeks at a time, or just the opposite.

And none of it works. He goes to therapy. That doesn’t work. He takes antidepressants. That makes him feel even worse. He sometimes just sits on the roof and stares up at the sky and thinks about nothing but it’s hard when the daytime blue sometimes looks like a certain boys eyes and it’s hard when constellations look like that same boys moles and freckles.

He feels pathetic. And then he feels pathetic for feeling pathetic. It’s an endless cycle of Baz feeling like he’s going insane and hating himself because there’s nothing else to do anymore.

He throws himself into his work despite breaking inside. He pretends like it’s no big deal despite everyone around him trying to comfort and console him.

And every single thing just makes him feel worse.

He dreams about Simon a lot. Mostly nightmares. But usually those are better than the ‘good’ dreams. Dreams where everything is back to normal and Simon’s waking him up and smiling at him and the sun is shining on his goofy grin. But then when Baz actually wakes up, there’s no smile greeting him. There’s no warm hands rubbing up and down his arms. All that’s the same is the slight smell of apple left on the pillow beside him because of the shampoo Simon uses. _U_ _sed_.

So in a moment of weakness he looks through that box.

The first one he pulls out is of him and Simon, at a fair. It was their fifth date and even though it was years ago Baz remembers it like it was yesterday. Simon ate ridiculous amounts of cotton candy and almost threw up on the swings. That was their first kiss too. Baz remembers how it was dark it was and how the lights of the rides were making Simon’s eyes shine and his mouth tasted like all that terrifyingly sweet cotton candy. And he wishes he could go back.

He can’t stand it sometimes. Sometimes he wants to rip his eyes right out of his head because he’ll see something that he knows Simon would have laughed at. Or admired or really just anything now. Everything he sees he automatically thinks of what Simon would say about it.

He starts talking to himself because it feels better. He pretends Simon’s there listening to him. Simon always paid attention to him like he was revolving around him. And Baz always paid attention to him in the same way. But now Baz has no one to listen to except himself.

It’s unfair because he had a whole life he wanted with Simon and Simon wanted it too. It’s unfair because things like death shouldn’t come so early to people like Simon. It’s unfair because he was only 34.

And it’s so hard and people keep telling him it’ll get easier but no one really understands. Everyone is different and everyone grieves differently and it just so happens that Baz can’t seem to stop.

He misses him. And he misses hearing him laugh and shout and whisper to him when fingertips skated along hips and shoulders. He misses his frown and his pout and his blinding smile.

And there were so many different smiles.

There was the smile Simon had when Baz would make him breakfast. The smile when Baz would kiss his neck. The smile when Baz would do _m_ _ore_  than kiss his neck.

And Baz hates that too. He’ll never get to feel him again. Never get to run his hands over Simon’s chest up to his hair and play with his curls. Never get to hold his warm hands. Never get to share spine tingling kisses.

It breaks him and it breaks him and it _breaks_ him. Over and over until days and weeks pass. Over and over until it feels like he might pass out because he can’t remember the last time he ate or drank anything. Over and over until his hair is greasy and he smells like garbage because he hasn’t showered in so long.

Everything just goes on and on. Over and over.


End file.
